They didn t know
by Meybell
Summary: They didn t know what was going to happen. They thought they were ready to face everything if they were together. Clove and Cato had to choose and be sure of what they wanted. They never were, and someone else chose instead.


_Hi! This is a Clato oneshot about Clove and Cato before and during the 74th Hunger Games. I´m sorry for any mistakes, I´m still practicing my english (I´m portuguese)._

_I hope you like this! Tell me what you think!_

Clove never paid attention to the woman´s words. It would always be the same woman, year after year, but her hair was never like in the previous year. Big voluminous and pink hair, short hair with red stripes all over the wig, and so on; it didn´t really matter, the woman was always ridiculous in Clove´s eyes. The Capitol would always be ridiculous in those little girl´s eyes.

That was Clove´s first year on the Reaping. She was nervous and anxious, looking around the crowd made of other children and older teens, all of them with the same thought: I may be dead next week. Yes, Clove was nervous and she didn´t know what to do, so she just followed the older kids, but she wasn´t scared. Clove Breil was never scared.

She knew she was good, everyone knew that. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Far away, she saw those bright and icy blue eyes. He was staring at her, with his usual cocky smirk on his lips.

"May the odds be ever in your favor" Cato whispered. She read the words on his lips and smiled slightly.

It was weird to see Clove smiling – she almost never did - , but Cato kind of liked it – not that anyone knew that. He never told anyone, not even her. The way her eyes would get smaller, but brighter, and her cheeks would get an almost red tone. Cato liked it, the way she smiled and how she would smile only at him; but his mind was darker and had less childish and romantic thoughts than anyone could imagine.

That arrogant boy, with blond hair, looking at the only person he had never hurt, was raised to be a killer – just like Clove. And a killer he became.

-Who was your first time with? – she asks, with a sneaky smile – Someone I know?

-Don´t get too curious, freckles. – he jokes, but doesn´t mind on giving her the answer – Jina Valmir.

-Woa. – Clove drops her smile, a mocking expression appearing on her face. Her cheeks start burning and Cato knows she didn´t like the answer. Actually, it didn´t matter the answer, Clove would react the same whatever the name was – You slept with that whore? Didn´t get any disease, blondie?

-If I had, you would have it too, smartass.

-Shut up. – she growls and gets up from the chair. Clove tries to walk away, but the blonde guy is faster and the grabs her arm – Let go of me, asshole! – she tries to shove his hand away, but the grip gets stronger. She grits her teeth, determined to not show any pain – Cato. Let me go.

-No. Why do you get so jealous? It´s not like I´m gonna fuck her again!

-I don´t care who you fuck! Don´t touch me! – Clove pushes him away with her other hand, but Cato grabs it. She growls – Get off me. Now.

-You stupid girl. – he sighs, trying to calm down is anger. Cato has a temper, both of them know that, but sometimes (and that was one of them) Clove just forget that. Unfortunately, there were times were Clove pushed him too far and the obvious fact that Cato was taller and stronger than her would turn into a disadvantage. They would fight for nothing, stupid reasons which would end with blood and burning flesh – I am with you. That´s what we agreed, isn´t it? I fuck you, you´re mine. Just mine. – Clove pretends to not notice the possessiveness in his voice – And I´m yours. I don´t sleep around anymore, Clove, just put that in that tinny head of yours. Can you? Or is too much to ask?

-Don´t pretend you don´t remember. - she whispers coldly, her eyes searching his – Because I still do, Cato. You cheated once, you can cheat again, and I don´t tolerate that!

-I was drunk! – he argues.

-I don´t care. – he realizes her hands, regretting it when her finger firmly pokes his chest – If I find out that you…

-Just shut up.

Crashing his lips against hers, Cato succeeds on making Clove shut up. But not much later, Clove succeeds too, leaving red and long marks all around Cato´s back and bites on his neck.

They would never say out loud and much less admit it to themselves. Those nights were rough and emotionless. All they heard was their rhythmic heartbeat, the opening skin sound, the sound of their bodies crashing against each other, and moans, groans and growls of pleasure and pain. Moans that demanded more of those intoxicating and forbidden moments.

There were no words. No hate words. No love words. Why would they say anything if their bodies talked so much better than their mouths? Also, both mouths were already too much occupied to say a word.

He watches her intently as her legs slowly, but firmly, move towards the stage.

He is waiting there, with a cruel smirk and his eyes colder than ever. Cato pretends he doesn´t feel anything but will to win. He pretends, in front of a whole nation and his handsome face being filmed by each camera, that he is going to win. He makes them believe. Actually, Cato´s perform is so good that even he ends to believe that he may win the Hunger Games.

But when their hands touch, when their eyes meet, dark green with piercing blue, every walls both of them had built over the years and over those moments simply fall.

She can even hear the sound of the wall´s rocks falling, one by one, tearing her apart. She knows she can win, though.

He looks away and jerks his hand away from hers. The crowd likes it, the hate between the two careers. He knows one of them is going to win, after all, they are the best of their District. They are better than everyone else in that arena. And he knows. Deep inside, Cato knows that, if together, no one will ever be better than them. But alone, they are as good as anyone else from District 2.

Cato feels it and that is why he looks away from those eyes he loves and hates. They, the odd couple, won´t win.

Clove knows when he breaks the promise of only touching her body. Surprisingly, the petite girl doesn´t feel any hate. Of course, she wants to make him pay for breaking the promise. But she is too tired, too hurt. She is broken and there is nothing else, no breaking bones, no yelling or touching skins than will ever make Clove feel better.

That night, when he walks inside her room and lies beside her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her lips softly, Clove gives him what he wants.

Because, in the end, one of them will die. And Clove will make everything to be him, Cato, the loser. The brunette can already picture it, the glory moment; him dying with one of her knifes twirling in his chest. And Clove will whisper on his ear, as his life fades away, how they could have been together after all, with no revenge, no breaking hearts.

He is hers, in life and death. She will make sure he is.

One by one, the tributes start dying.

Clove makes the first kill and she is so proud of it, because she knows, she is sure that the first death was hers and so will be the last one.

Staring at her, though his arm his around some blond´s waist, Cato watches for his girl. He is proud of her, of course he is, but he is also mad. She is not better than him, the first kill should be his. But it wasn´t and Cato has to accept it. He does, some days after the bloodbath.

In his mind, he tries to find out whom of them will be the one leaving that place alive. Some moments he would think it would be Clove, with her strength and sadistic but, when she wanted to, sweet personality.

Or it would be him, the blond and huge guy from 2. The guy who was afraid of dying and letting someone else takes his place and was also afraid of winning and never find someone to take her place.

Sooner or later, both of them would have to make a decision.

What none of them ever thought about was that someone else could make that decision in their place.

And so it happened, unpredictable, shocking and sad, so sad that Panem would never forget Clove´s calling, Cato´s beg, Cato´s crying, Cato´s agonized shrieks when he hallucinated with his petite girl running away from him.

No one would ever forget his last words; _Please. She is waiting for me. __Please._


End file.
